


hips like jagger and two left feet

by orphan_account



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, binsung, mentions of recreational drug use, the author does not know what she's doing oop, the others aren't mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:13:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22226242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: when jisung's family heads out to their summer home for the holiday, the last thing he'd expected was to fall in love with a boy too reckless and too carefree for him. or the one based on un frere, where two boys learn a deeper understanding to what there is to first love.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 184





	hips like jagger and two left feet

**Author's Note:**

> what's the best way to start off your school year? popping your writing virginity n spending a whole day writing this fic! a lot of themes and scenes are adapted from [this film](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QyggQrBOE1U) called un frere, an french indie film that i found absolutely gorgeous. ok so uh. have fun i guess.  


Sometimes, when Jisung listens to a song, he doesn’t hear the melody. Not even the lyrics, or the voice. He hears the song as it is, and instead of asking, ‘What does the singer mean when they sing this?’ or ‘What key is this in?’, he asks himself, ‘What picture are they painting?’

He listens to songs as a sort of dreamlike film. He associates different music genres to different movie genres. Slow ballads are the 18th-century grand hall parties with the main protagonist reaching out for their lover’s hand in the intention of a dance. Rap EDM songs are the action movies he watches sometimes in the depths of the attic upstairs, the heavy bass pounding in time to the gunfires flashing across the screens. Soft acoustic songs are the lovers in their car with the bonnet down, the hair flowing in the winds, the golden fields stretched out for miles and endless miles. 

For now, he’s got his earphones plugged to Vacation Manor, the softness of the guitar and the rawness of the voice lulling him to sleep. The rumble of the car engine underneath does wonders to his lethargic bones, and if it weren’t for Ji-hae on her Nintendo Switch blasted on full volume, he might actually be asleep by now.

“Ji-hae,” their mother clicks her tongue. “What did we talk about playing your Switch in the car?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jisung watches his younger sister peel her eyes from the screen absent-mindedly. The sunlight gleams through the car window, and falls onto her raven black hair. “Half volume,” she whispers, before turning the sound down. Jisung smiles, before flicking his gaze to the view outside. Long gone are the towering skyscrapers and insistent traffic and honks and beeps; countryside bleeds across his vision, the odd cottage or two springing up every half a mile or so. The clouds have parted in reverence of the afternoon sun. And Jisung basks in the warmth, the light, the wisps of wind sneaking in from the slip of the window where he’d rolled it down.

He’s not with a lover in a car with the bonnet down, blasting country music and singing along to corny love ballads, but he sure as hell can imagine it, for now.

☀

As the car squeaks asphalt, halting by the side of the road, Jisung watches his mum rushing out of the car with the phone cupped to her ear. Dazed, he rips an earphone out and glances at his dad. “What’s going on?” he asks groggily.

His dad purses his lips together. “Your mum’s close friend, Sora, had a miscarriage. Second one, I believe. She’s heartbroken.”

“Oh,” Jisung nods. He gazes out the window, watches his mum rattling away whilst making overdramatic hand gestures, almost smacking a passer-by with the flippant swing of her arm. From the looks of it, his mum seems rather concerned for her friend. Jisung’s memory is kinda hazy, but he does remember a woman visiting frequently from when he was five or six. Jisung places the earbud back and watches the scene unfold akin to that of a movie, the music drifting into and out of his conscience.

After several more minutes, his mum slides back into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh. “She’s not taking it very well,” she explains slowly. “And besides, Beom-seok’s out of town at the moment; she’s all alone at home with her son.”

“How old’s her son?” his dad asks, as he puts the car to drive. 

“About a year older than Jisung. Twenty in August, if I’m not mistaken.”

Jisung drowns out his parents’ conversation with his music. Nathan Towles’ voice does wonders sometimes, the rawness of it dragged out in sentimental ballads Jisung can already see himself dancing to with his imaginary lover. He wonders what that would feel like, someone’s hands on his hips, someone’s lips against his own, someone’s name on his lips. 

He closes his eyes and allows himself to sink into the chords and the tunes playing through his ears.

☀

“Welcome to the Han Summer Cabin!” Jisung’s dad joyously shoves the creaky door open to their two-floor summer home. Jisung hasn’t been here in forever, ever since they’d migrated to Malaysia when he was seven. Now, the home looks even more battered-up than usual, all creaking floorboards and chipped tile and dusty bookshelves. He’s not even sure if the television has cable, or if there’s a WiFi connection here. 

Not like he’ll need the WiFi, anyways. Seungmin and Hyunjin are both away this summer, Seungmin to help out as an instructor for a kid’s summer camp, Hyunjin practising hard for a summer dance competition with his dance trio. Even if Jisung were as free as a bird here, he’d never be able to get ahold of the both of them for a ten-minute text conversation.

Ji-hae heaves her suitcase into the sitting room, huffing and puffing for show. “It’s so heavyyyy,” she whines.

Jisung sighs. Slinging his duffel bag over one shoulder, he helps pick up Ji-hae’s suitcase, which is, of course, unsurprisingly light. Brat. “C’mon, let’s head upstairs.”

The bedroom’s the same as he’d left it so many years ago. The bunk bed stands in all its glory on one side of the room, another single bed pressed against the other wall. The bookshelves are crammed with Jisung’s favourite comics and puzzles, and Ji-hae’s old princess stories and alphabet sing-along CDs. The musty smell of wood fills his nostrils. Jisung feels a little drunk on the axe scent, all the memories clogging his conscience.

“Don’t stand there like a dumbo, Sungie-oppa,” Ji-hae grumbles. “We have to go down to the pond!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jisung snaps out of his daze, and watches as his sister trudges into the bathroom, swimsuit in one hand, her favourite bucket in another. Despite being twelve and having an incredibly social life with her best friends, for some reason or another, Ji-hae sticks to Jisung like glue. She accompanies Jisung in whatever he does, every second of his life. If they didn’t look alike, Jisung’s sure some people would question if he had a girlfriend seven years his junior.

He tosses the duffel bag carelessly onto the lower bunk bed, followed by Ji-hae’s suitcase onto the floor, and flops down onto the bed. The mattress dips low under his weight, until he’s sure he can feel the metal bedframe. Still, it’s a pretty divine mattress, and Jisung can feel his sore back muscles beginning to relax against the velvety blankets.

He lies there, soaking in the remembrance of his yesterdays, until Ji-hae screams for him to hurry to the bathroom and kill the cockroach hanging onto the shower curtains.

☀

The day goes by mostly to Jisung’s expectations. He takes Ji-hae down to the huge pond, and writes song lyrics whilst his sister digs up sand and makes a sandcastle by the edge of the waters. Dinner is rice with some meat and kimchi, much to Ji-hae’s distaste, who claims that ‘barbeque meat is a must on the first night here!’

Jisung doesn’t have much trouble falling to sleep that night. In the morning, however, he awakes to face an unfamiliar body in the single bed. 

Blinking, Jisung scrambles to sit upright. He hears some rustling above him, signalling that Ji-hae’s awake, and watches as Ji-hae swings her head down to face Jisung. Her eyes are comically wide, her hair springing out in several directions. “Oppa,” she whispers. “Who’s that?”

“I-I don’t know,” he mumbles. The light blue blanket has given way to a pale back, speckled with a few moles here and there. A head of black locks tumble over the pillow, and a well-built arm clutches onto a… stuffed Munchlax. Clearly, Jisung hasn’t woken up to such a sight before, ever. 

Ji-hae hurriedly clambers down the ladder and lands with an “Oof!” onto the ground. “I’ll ask eomma; she’ll know!” she says, and before Jisung can stop her, she’s already off and running.

Jisung purses his lips together. As quietly as he can, he slinks out of the bed and tugs his sleep shirt down over his stomach. Carefully, he creeps closer to the single bed, wary of every squeak of the floorboards. When he tilts his head, he sees a boy, not too much older than Jisung by the looks of it. His breaths are punctuated by the occasional snore, but he’s clearly deep in his slumber. Jisung stares a little longer, until he remembers that the guy’s shirtless and tears his eyes away. As he does, he remembers hesitating before wondering why he’d be so… irked by a guy sleeping shirtless. 

Jisung shakes the weird feeling off by the time he’s strolled into the kitchen. To his surprise, a lady with a bob and a worn pale blue summer dress is sat at the kitchen table, exchanging conversation with his mother. “Morning,” he greets, announcing his arrival.

Both ladies turn to face Jisung. The woman’s eyes light up. “Oh, Eun-mi, is this your little Jisungie? My goodness, he’s all grown up now!”

His mum laughs heartily. “Of course, it’s been years, Sora.” Sora. Jisung’s memory clicks the woman’s face with the woman mentioned yesterday, halfway through the drive. “Jisung-ah, this is Sora. She just had her miscarriage yesterday, and seeing as Beom-seok’s out of town, we’ve decided to let her and her son Changbin stay with us for a while, for the company.”

“Her son?” Jisung echoes. “Is… is that the boy in our room?”

“Oh, yes,” his mum nods. “They arrived here late last night, so I guess you didn’t hear him. Hopefully you won’t mind him sharing the room with you and Ji-hae, yes? Be nice to him, alright? I’ve already told your sister.”

“Yes, eomma,” Jisung replies, and drops a kiss onto his mother’s forehead. As he turns to grab some breakfast off of the kitchen island, he hears approaching footsteps and a heavy grunt. When he glances up from the scrambled eggs, his heart leaps to his throat. Shirtless Boy (well… now in a plain white tee tucked into denim jeans) shuffles into the kitchen. His hair droops past his forehead in a messy fringe, and his eyes are dark and sharp, despite having just woken up. He mumbles a “good morning” to the table, before looking at Jisung.

And when he looks at Jisung, for a moment there, Jisung feels his presence acknowledged like never before. As if those piercing eyes run down his body, top to toe, scanning every inch, every edge and curve, before Jisung becomes transparent to him. He watches as Changbin grabs a plate, fills it to the brim and trudges off to the kitchen table.

And just like that, the balloon that had inflated for that one single moment blubbers into a pile, poked to burst as soon as it had bloomed.

☀

This time, when Jisung and Ji-hae head down to the pond, Changbin is forced by his mum to tag along. When they reach, Ji-hae immediately dumps her stuff down onto the sandy ground to run after a stray dog, bounding close to the edge of the pond. Jisung lets her, knowing she’ll be safe as long as he keeps an eye on her. 

He lays out his blanket onto the ground, and quickly takes up his lyric book and a pen. From his peripheral vision, he watches Changbin typing away on his phone, as he had done earlier, too. Jisung tries to tear his eyes away from Changbin, but it’s kinda tough. He’s not really sure why. Maybe because Changbin has the broadest shoulders Jisung’s seen on someone in a long while. Or maybe it’s the black snapback worn backwards on top of his dishevelled hair. Or maybe it’s the sleeves of his black shirt hugging his huge ar-

“-Are you staring at me, kid?” Changbin’s voice snaps him back to reality. Stunned, Jisung’s eyes flick up to the other’s face. There’s a scowl on Changbin’s lips, cold and uninviting. 

“No,” he replies meekly, then decides lying to the guy is pretty much useless. “I mean, uh, yeah.”

Changbin stares at him for a long while. After a few moments, Changbin slides his phone into the pocket of his jeans. “What’ve you got there?”

“Me?” Jisung realises that Changbin’s eyes are on his notebook now. “Um… I’m writing something.”

“Huh.”

“They’re like… uh, song lyrics.”

Changbin raises an eyebrow. “Can I see?” he asks. Jisung feels his heart beating harder. Earlier during breakfast the guy hadn’t even spared a glance at him. And now, his eyes are practically burning a hole deep into Jisung’s eyes. 

“Sure,” Jisung says, as nonchalantly as he can. He hands the notebook over, and Changbin takes it with a gentle hand. He looks down at the yellowing pages, Jisung’s scribbles everywhere on the page. Jisung’s not very neat when it comes to songwriting - well, actually, he’s not very neat when it comes to anything, but that’s beside the point.

“These are really good,” Changbin comments. He peers up, and to Jisung’s surprise, the guy actually smiles. As he passes the notebook back, Changbin asks, “Sorry I didn’t catch your name earlier. You’re…?”

“Jisung,” Jisung replies. “Changbin, right?”

“Yeah,” Changbin grins. He flops back down onto the blanket, fishing his phone out again. “Nice name.”

For the rest of the thirty minutes spent by the side of the pool, Jisung’s face remains flushed red all over, and it most definitely does _ not _ have anything to do with the sun.

☀

Later in the afternoon, Jisung’s out in the backyard on the bench, scribbling down a few lyrics. He’s got his earphones plugged in, and he basks in the sun as the music plays in his ears. Somewhere near the back door, his dad’s setting up the grill for dinner later, as a special treat for Sora and Changbin’s stay with them this summer.

He’s so engrossed in his writing that he doesn’t realise the other boy’s presence, until one of his earbuds is pulled out. Startled, Jisung glances up to see a grinning Changbin. His eyes fall to the bottle of soju in his hand. “Guess what,” Changbin says, plopping down onto the bench beside him. “I was digging around the cellar just now, and I found this! Man, your place is stocked with alcohol, dude.”

“Ah,” Jisung says. He’s more surprised by the fact that Changbin found him here, rather than the fact that Changbin had been sneaking around their summer house basement; their yard is so huge that he’d chosen a secluded place to write, away from the adults. He watches as Changbin unscrews the top and tilts his head back to take a sip. “Have you gotten drunk before?”

He waits for Changbin to swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Yeah,” Changbin quips. “I’ve gotten plenty drunk before.” He passes the bottle to Jisung, who takes it up, dumbfounded. “Have you drunk before?”

“No,” Jisung mutters. Sometimes, he’d been dragged out of the house by his friends for college parties, but he’d always either go home early or sit in the kitchen with a glass of water. He’s not a huge fan of parties, neither is he a fan of getting drunk and doing stupid things in front of dozens of strangers. 

Changbin chuckles. “You’re missing out on a lot, aren’t you?” he says. “Try it.”

Jisung hesitates momentarily before tipping his head back. He wraps his lips around the mouth of the bottle, and takes a sip. The alcohol burns a trail down his throat, and Jisung chokes, almost dropping the bottle in the process.

Changbin steadies a hand on Jisung’s back. “Woah, slow down, you chipper,” he laughs. He retrieves the bottle from Jisung’s hand, but his other hand stays against the nape of Jisung’s neck, massages the muscles in his shoulders. “You good there?”

“Um, yeah,” Jisung nods. 

Changbin grins and takes another sip. As he does, Jisung watches the silver hoops of his earrings catch the light of day and glimmer prettily. He suddenly has the urge to twirl a finger around the earring, but before he can, there’s a thumping of approaching footsteps from behind them.

The both of them swivel around to see two girls, not any older than them, by the looks of it. One of them leans against the wooden fence, flicks her hair over her shoulder. “And what’re the both of you doing out here, drinking all by yourselves?” she simpers, her smile immoveable from her face.

Jisung watches as a smirk forms on Changbin’s lips. “Escaping from the wrath of parental guidance, of course,” he replies smoothly. 

The girls laugh. “Anyways, I’m Jeongyeon. This one’s Tzuyu. You guys aren’t from here, are you?”

Jisung musters up the courage to speak up. “Uh, not really. This is actually my family’s summer house.”

“Ah,” Tzuyu nods. “Are the both of you related or something?”

Changbin chuckles. “Nah, we’re not,” he replies. “Anyways, where are you ladies going?”

“The pier,” Jeongyeon says. “Tzuyu found this,” she waves a bottle of beer in their faces, “at her place, so we decided to go watch the boats and drink. Wanna join?”

Jisung keeps his lips shut as Changbin nods. “Sure.” He glances at Jisung, eyes bright and shining. “C’mon, Ji, let’s go.”

Without much of a choice, Jisung follows suit. He lingers back, allowing Changbin to walk ahead with the two girls. They’re probably charmed by him already, Jisung thinks to himself, as he walks slowly behind. That is, until Changbin turns back to gesture at him, as if to say Hurry up!

Eventually, they reach the pier. The chugging of speed boat engines and church bells ringing resonates in Jisung’s ears. Beyond the pier, the blue waters stretch out for miles on end, the waves swirling and dipping and soaring. Several seagulls stare down at the four of them, from where they’re perched on top of the electricity pylons.

Jisung stands there awkwardly as the three of them make themselves comfy on the wooden planks. Tzuyu twists the beer bottle open and offers Changbin some. Jisung can only gaze on wordlessly as Changbin grins, says something flirty back, before taking a swig of beer. When he swallows, he peers up at Jisung, and pats at the space beside him.

“No, I couldn’t…” Jisung says. “I should definitely head back and, uh, check on Ji-hae.”

“Really?” Jeongyeon says. “Surely it can’t kill to stay a while with us.”

“No, I should really get going,” Jisung answers. He’s never been comfortable with strangers, especially the kind that invite you and your somewhat-friend to a pier with a bottle of beer. He waves a hasty goodbye at them, and hurries off without sparing a glance at Changbin.

He’s about halfway back to the home when he feels a tap on his shoulder. When Jisung swivels around, he’s surprised to see Changbin right behind him, clutching onto the bottle of beer.

“I thought you were with the girls,” Jisung says.

Changbin shrugs. “‘S fine. I wanted to head back in time for dinner, anyways.”

Jisung’s eyes land onto the bottle. “Where’d the soju go?”

“Traded,” Changbin says. “This stuff is stronger. Want a sip?”

Jisung knows he probably shouldn’t. And yet, Changbin’s eyes are even brighter than before, his cheeks flushed pink, and gosh, it really is a sight. Jisung’s hand acts faster than his brain, and before he knows it, he’s plucked the bottle from Changbin’s hand and taking a sip of beer.

If he’d found the soju disgusting, this beer was the absolute worst. “Oh, what the fuck,” Jisung coughs, his throat clogged with the taste of the beer. “How are you drinking this shit?”

Changbin chuckles. “It’s fine; I’ve tasted worse,” he answers, before taking another sip. “Help me finish it, will you? We needa finish it off before we head back.”

Jisung rolls his eyes, but he does as told nonetheless. This time, the burn of the beer down his oesophagus is a little easier to bear, but the taste is still so sharp. He already feels a little tipsy from how strong the brew is. 

By the time they stumble home, Jisung’s reaching for the bathroom door. Changbin sighs as the younger retches into the toilet bowl, his lungs heaving for breath as he throws up his guts. “Guess you can’t take the alcohol, can you?” Changbin says, rubbing a comforting hand on his back. “There, there. You okay now?”

The concerned tone in Changbin’s otherwise gravelly voice is what stirs Jisung more awake. He glances at Changbin, his hair, his eyes, his nose. “Yeah,” he replies shakily.

Changbin glances down at Jisung’s tee, which has a splotch of beer on it from earlier. “C’mon, let’s get you showered, then. You reek of alcohol.”

“So do you,” Jisung retorts, but he doesn’t argue when Changbin helps to get him out of his shirt. He feels so disoriented, head dizzy as he struggles to peel off his shorts. He barely even realises that Changbin’s yanking his shirt off, too, until he gets an eyeful of tanned skin, strong arms and a flat torso. He feels heat rise to his head, feels the hurricane up there swirling stronger, faster.

Changbin helps Jisung into the shower cubicle, and reaches around him for the shower head. “C’mon, we’ve only got a while before the folks call us for dinner.” He twists the knob, and water gushes onto Jisung’s head. Even though they’ve still got their boxers on, Jisung feels pretty intimidated by how Changbin practically towers over him. But when his hand comes down to rinse water over his head, he feels a little less tense. 

“I’ll shampoo your hair first, ‘kay?” Changbin says, lodging the shower head back in its place and reaching for the shampoo. When his hands come up to his head and fingers tangle in the wet strands, Jisung closes his eyes blissfully. The feel of Changbin’s fingers carding through his hair is nice, calming even. Soap suds run down the side of his face, and Changbin rinses them off with water. Once he’s done, Changbin hands him the shampoo bottle and turns around. “Your turn.”

It’s at this moment that Jisung’s not really sure how to do it. Shampooing his own hair is one thing, but to do that for someone else? He awkwardly squeezes out some shampoo and hesitantly reaches out for Changbin’s hair. Surprisingly, his hair’s as soft as it looks. Jisung carefully rubs the shampoo into his scalp, aware of his fingernails in case they’re too sharp. “Like this?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a moment of silence. Jisung gulps as he watches the water droplets clinging onto his neck roll down his back, disappearing into the hem of his boxers. He does try to peel his eyes away, but it’s so tough - Changbin’s probably one of the most beautiful guys he’s ever seen, all strong and gorgeous and kind, despite his ruddy looks.

“You’re staring.”

Jisung blinks. “What?”

He can’t see Changbin’s face, but the older laughs. “Why’re you staring at me, hm?”

Jisung doesn’t say anything.

Instead, Changbin sighs. “You ever kissed a boy before?”

“What?” Jisung can’t believe his ears. He feels warmth creep up his neck, despite how cold the water is.

Jisung’s hands fall to his sides as Changbin turns around. “You ever wondered what it feels to kiss a guy?” he asks quietly.

Jisung gives a half-shrug. “Sometimes?”

Changbin smirks. “Wanna know?”

Jisung blinks once. Twice._ What?! _

Changbin takes a step forward, crowding Jisung up to the corner. With the soap bubbles popping on the tops of his head and his wet hair matted across his forehead, Changbin is a sight to behold. “That is, if you want to.”

Jisung doesn’t know what exactly compels him, but. He nods. He nods so slowly, he wonders if his neck muscles will permanently stay fixed in a nod.

With that, Changbin leans close. The scent of shampoo swirls in the air, and before Jisung can even process what’s happening, Changbin’s lips press against Jisung’s. Jisung’s eyes flutter close on their own account. He’s never been kissed before. Not even with girls. He’d always been a homebody, shut away in his room reading comics, playing video games, whilst all his classmates were hooking up with strangers they were never to see again. He’d always wondered what good was there in kissing someone they barely knew.

Well, he knows now.

There’s a loud _ smack _ sound as their lips part, and Jisung suddenly aches for more. He lets Changbin kiss him again, this time longer, deeper. He feels his knees buckling from the taste of soju and beer on Changbin’s lips, from the hand placed firm on his hip. The warmth in his chest instantly dissipates the second Changbin pulls back with a grin.

Jisung breathes shakily. His eyes open to see Changbin reaching for the shower head and spraying water on his head. “C’mon,” Changbin says. “The parents are probably done preparing dinner.”

Jisung doesn’t move, not until Changbin sprays the water in his face. Jisung can’t help but laugh, flicking water on Changbin’s body. He doesn’t know it now, and probably won’t know it later, but maybe that was when he started falling fast for a boy called Seo Changbin.

☀

He barely touches dinner that night, as good as the grilled meat smells. Jisung excuses himself to the bedroom and wills himself to sleep. His head pounds with a million questions. What was that kiss all about? What does it mean if he liked it? And what about Changbin? What’s Changbin thinking about? Truthfully, he barely sleeps a wink that night, instead listening to Ji-hae tossing and turning in her sleep, and Changbin’s soft snores in his deep slumber.

When morning comes, Jisung is welcomed in the kitchen by a pouting Ji-hae. He tentatively walks over, careful not to make his sister outraged. “What’s wrong, Ji-hae ah?”

“I wanna go to the beach,” Ji-hae grumbles, “but eomma said we can only go next week. I don’t even understand why! I wanna go to the beach!”

“What’s going on?” Changbin’s voice spills into the room. Jisung freezes as Changbin places a hand on Jisung’s shoulder casually, his eyes on Ji-hae. “Why’re so upset, Ji-hae?”

“Changbin-oppa,” Ji-hae sighs, “I really want to go to the beach, but eomma won’t let us until next week!”

Much to Jisung’s disbelief, Changbin walks over and crouches down beside Ji-hae, where she’s sat on the chair with her arms crossed over her chest defiantly. “Hey, Ji-hae ah. At least she’s letting you go to the beach, right? Better than her not letting you at all. So how about you be happy about it, before she changes her mind and not let you go at all?”

Ji-hae seems to mull over this for a moment, before nodding obediently. Jisung’s surprised by how quickly his sister hops off of the chair and locates for her Nintendo Switch in the sitting room. He glances at Changbin, his face probably expressing how surprised he is.

Changbin grins. “Close your mouth; the mosquitoes will fly right in.”

The day goes by normally, with them spending time by the pond until lunch, after which they all spent their afternoons by themselves. It’s as if they hadn’t kissed at all. Jisung admonishes himself for thinking there’s more to it. It’s nothing, he scolds himself. He just wanted to help you… know what it feels like to be kissed by a boy. By him. Nothing else.

Jisung spends most of his afternoon lying down on his bed listening to music and writing down more angsty lyrics. He’s only interrupted when Changbin walks in, peeling his tee shirt off.

Jisung flushes and stares down at his notebook.

“I’m gonna head out, yeah,” Changbin says. “Jeongyeon’s holding a party at her house tonight; wanna go?”

Jisung gazes at Changbin, like a lost puppy. “Your mum let you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Changbin says. “Though, I had to lie to her and said I’d take you to the park instead to grab dinner while the folks are out for some dinner party. And I had to agree that we’d come back by midnight”

“What.”

“Look,” Changbin sighs. “My mum’s kinda… overprotective now? Thinks that ‘cause she lost two fetuses means she’ll lose me somehow. It’s getting irritating, honestly. I’m twenty this year, not two.”

“Well…” Jisung begins. “I don’t think you should be too hard on her. I mean, my mum had a miscarriage before she had me, too. It’s pretty devastating, y’know, to lose someone you’ve been caring for before they’re even born. Maybe it’ll take her some time.”

Changbin looks at Jisung. Like, really looks at him. Jisung feels a little self-conscious, with how Changbin’s eyes sweep past his face, his shoulders, his arms and legs. “Huh,” he says. A curtain of tension falls for a moment, with the two of them looking at each other in silence.

Finally, Changbin breaks the silence by pulling Jisung out of the bed with a tug of his sleeve. “C’mon. It must be boring staying in here for hours. At least go for the party, y’know.”

Jisung sighs. “Fine. Only this once, alright?”

Changbin eyes Jisung’s plaid button-down. “You sure you don’t have any other shirts?”

“Not… really?” Jisung scratches his head, confused.

Changbin clicks his tongue. “Well, this shirt won’t do; you look like a farm boy from Texas or something.” He darts across the room to his open suitcase, and begins going through his pile of shirts. After several seconds, he holds up a striped tee for Jisung. “C’mon, let’s get you out of that wretched shirt, yeah?”

☀

The shirt’s much too big and broad for Jisung’s skinner frame, but he manages. With the sleeves rolled up and a comb through his hair, the two boys bid their parents (and a pouting Ji-hae) goodbye before heading off. They round the cobblestone pavement down a long aisle of shops and cafes. The town out here is quiet, peaceful, with people cycling down the streets and the aroma of freshly-baked bread wafting in the evening air.

Changbin shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looks at Jisung. “You went out on parties before?”

Jisung nods. “Yeah.”

The other grins. “Looks like someone actually has a life.”

“Yah,” Jisung huffs. “I don’t really like being around… strangers, when they’re drunk especially. Makes me feel sick.”

“You could drink something weak. Lower your inhibitions a little, and have fun,” Changbin proclaims. Jisung clamps his mouth shut, not knowing how to reply to that. They walk in silence for the rest of the five-minute journey to Jeongyeon’s house, located at the end of the cul-de-sac.

Even from a fifty-metre radius, Jisung can hear the rhythm of the bass music in his ears. Jeongyeon swings the door open the instance Changbin rings the doorbell, and she grins. “Nice to see the both of you showed up, huh?” she laughs. She’s definitely drunk, Jisung thinks, as she clumsily stumbles down the hallway and leads them to the sitting room. 

It’s barely nine p.m., and there’s already several empty bottles on the coffee table. Jisung squeezes past the sea of people, dancing and singing to the beat of the popular song pounding from the speakers. A round of cheers ring up from the pool table, and someone jostles against Jisung, almost spilling vodka down his (read: Changbin’s) shirt.

Changbin spins around and grins. “Isn’t this cool?” he shouts above the din.

Jisung shrugs. _ No, _ he wants to say. _ No, I want to go home, _ but he sees how ecstatic Changbin is, how his eyes are so comically bright and dancing, that Jisung resorts to staying.

He ends up sat in the corner, gazing at the scene unfolding before him. Someone started passing the weed, and now Jisung feels a little airy from the strong scent of it lingering in the air. He coughs a little, takes a sip of his iced water, and tries to relax in the middle of the party.

Someone sits down heavily next to him. Jisung turns to see Changbin, sweat dotted across his forehead from dancing and chatting loudly with everyone. He’d seen how amiable Changbin was earlier, clinking shot glasses with strangers and flirting with the gaggle of girls on the other side of the room. 

Changbin smiles at him. “What’re you doing here all alone?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

Changbin snorts. Without warning, he snatches up Jisung’s iced water, places it delicately onto a nearby shelf and hoists Jisung up. “C’mon,” he says. “We’re gonna dance. You are gonna dance.”

“I don’t know how to dance!” Jisung protests, but to no avail. Changbin’s already waving his arms about, shoes clicking against the tiled floor in time to the music. The corners of his eyes are crinkled from how excited (and drunk) he is. He whoops loudly and tugs at Jisung’s hand, playfully looping it around his broad shoulder. Jisung tries to keep up with the other guy, but he keeps tripping over his worn-out Converses.

“Gosh, ‘s like you’ve got hips like Jagger and two left feet,” Changbin slurs into Jisung’s ear, and a shiver runs down his spine. “Stiff as a bone. Loosen up!”

Changbin’s grin is so wide, it looks like it’ll split his face into half. Jisung grins at this, and does try to loosen up; he loops his arms around Changbin’s shoulders and sends them into a pretend waltz, with Khalid booming from the speakers. Someone yells for them to “get a room, you fuckers!” but the both of them simply laugh it off.

To be honest, Jisung enjoys this. Enjoys the feel of Changbin’s hands gripping his slim waist, the feel of Changbin laughing against his face, the feel of Changbin’s warmth pouring into him. It’s all a little too much, and Jisung can’t help when he leans to press a chaste kiss on Changbin’s cheek.

Changbin actually squeals, so, so tipsy and so, so happy. He twirls Jisung around like a princess and runs a hand through Jisung’s hair. “See? You’re having fun!” he hollers. 

Jisung chuckles. “Yeah, I am.”

Time flies by so fast, it’s a blur. Jisung eventually gets too tired and resigns to his corner of the room. Instead, he watches Changbin continue to dance to the music, and shouting the lyrics of the cheesy pop songs playing. Time flies by so fast, and before either of them can fathom it, it’s ten to midnight.

“Changbin,” Jisung calls. He walks over to Changbin, who’s taking another shot of soju. Clearly, he’s a much better drinker than Jisung is. “Changbin, we’ve got to go. Our parents will come back soon.”

“They won’t,” he drawls. “Just stay a little longerrrr.”

“Well…” Jisung hesitates. He really would like to stay here with Changbin, but he doesn’t exactly want to explain to his parents why he reeks of alcohol and weed when he comes back past curfew. “I’ll head back first, then.”

“Yeah,” Changbin grins, his eyelids drooping. 

Jisung hesitates a little longer, before finally tearing himself away from him. He takes the long route back to his home, and to his surprise, the parents aren’t back yet.

He hurriedly jumps into the showers and changes into his button-down and shorts for sleeping. He pads across the bedroom, softly, careful not to wake his sister, before remembering seeing her in their parents’ room. She’d probably gone there, arguing that the top bunk bed was too uncomfy in the morning. He slides under the blankets, and lays down flat on his bed.

And yet, he can’t brush away the thoughts of the party. He can’t push away the sight of Changbin, all tanned skin and pearly white teeth and dizzying charm dancing with him at the party. Can’t push away the sight of Changbin in the showers yesterday, kissing him until he felt so weak. Can’t push away the sight of Changbin peeling his shirt off, revealing chiseled curves and love handles resting on his hips.

Jisung has a hand sliding down his side, and hesitates before slipping his hand past the waistband of his shorts. He closes his eyes, remembering the curve of Changbin’s upper lip, the hoop earring glittering under the sun. Remembers the taste of him on his lips, the kiss he’d placed on his unshaven chin. 

Jisung breathes shakily. His hand tugs a little harder, precome slipping past the head so fast that it’s embarrassing. Jisung presses his back down on the mattress, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to will himself to keep quiet. In short, he doesn’t, and he groans as he comes so fast, too fast, toes curling and shoulders seizing up.

He lays there, on his bed, for a moment or two. He exhales deeply, before getting out of bed to wash his soiled boxers. Within minutes, he’s slipping back into his bedsheets, and just in time - Changbin stumbles back into the bedroom not long after Jisung cowers under his covers.

“Sungie? You awake?” Changbin slurs.

Jisung peeks out of the covers, revealing himself. “No.”

Changbin grins at him, as he peels his shirt off of him. “I’m so beat,” he whispers. “And guess what? The parents aren’t home yet! I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jisung hopes his too-red face isn’t visible in the dark, but he’s pretty sure Changbin’s too drunk to even make out the outline of his body. “Good night, hyung.”

Changbin smiles, slips under the covers. “Good night, Sungie.”

☀

The days pass in a sort of routine they’ve fallen into. They head to the pond in the mornings, do their stuff in the afternoon, and sometimes Changbin goes for Jeongyeon’s parties in the evening. Ever since that night, Jisung’s declined Changbin’s offers to tag along with him. He’s too awkward, but more importantly, he’s too scared that something will happen between him and Changbin after. 

But one time, when Ji-hae and the mums are out shopping, and Jisung’s dad is out for a beer with his old friends, Jisung’s curled up in bed flicking through dog photos when he hears the door banging open. He jumps in shock, and watches as Changbin stumbles into the room, a pissed look on his face.

Without any warning, he flops down onto his bed and turns on his side, facing the wall. Jisung removes an earbud and cautiously asks, “You okay, Changbin-hyung?” 

There’s a moment of silence. “No.”

Jisung purses his lips together. “Anything I can do to… cheer you up?”

Silence hangs in the air. Changbin ever so slowly turns the other way, to face Jisung. He’s not crying, but his cheeks are flushed, the corners of his lips turned down into a frown. “Can you c’mere?”

Jisung gulps. He sets down his phone, unplugs his earphones and shuffles across the room. 

“Could you turn off the lights, too?”

Jisung does, then clambers into the single bed. It’s a bit of a tight fit, given Changbin’s broad frame, but Jisung is tiny enough to slip into the vacant space on the bed. He buries his legs under the covers and turns to look at Changbin.

Changbin sighs. “You ever been in a relationship, Sungie?”

Jisung shakes his head.

Changbin scoffs. “Good, then. You’ve never experienced heartbreak.”

Jisung stares at Changbin’s clenched jaw. “Do you have… someone?”

“Well, I thought I did,” Changbin sniffs. “She said she wanted something casual, thought it’d be so devastating if she had to stay with me for life. I found that out when I caught her cheating on me two months back.”

“Shit,” Jisung curses. “That’s… that’s disgusting.”

“What’s even more disgusting is that she has the fucking nerve to call me. I clearly told her I wanted to cut ties back then.” Changbin sighs. “I’m over her already, but it’s stupid. Feels like I’ve always been alone, y’know, even though I’m surrounded by people.”

“Even when you’re with me?”

Changbin spares Jisung a glance. He smiles softly. “Well… not with you.”

Jisung’s heart swells in his chest. He hadn’t realised it before, but they’re so, so close to each other, thigh grazing thigh. Even in the dark, Jisung can see how sharp Changbin’s eyes are. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this feeling of being stared at so intensely, as if he were the last person alive in the world, and nothing and no one else mattered except for himself.

Under those lidded eyes, there’s a glint of mischief flickering in those pupils. Before Jisung can ask the question on his lips, he hears the blankets rustling. His shoulders freeze as he watches Changbin’s fingers dance along his shirt, down his side, before stopping at the waistband of his shorts. His eyes flick from the older’s hand, back up to Changbin’s face. When neither of them say anything, the corner of Changbin’s lips tugs upwards. His hand dips under the waistband, and Jisung can’t help the breathy gasp spilling out of his throat, no matter how much he tries to suppress it.

He watches in rapt attention, how Changbin’s fingers graze down, gliding past the hem of his boxers to touch warm skin. He watches how Changbin’s palm presses down, and all blood rushes down south. Jisung bites down on his lower lip, hard enough to almost draw blood, when the older cups him with his calloused palm. 

“This okay?” Changbin’s voice is a flurry of hot breath against his ear. Jisung doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything, not when Changbin’s hand is down his pants. He blinks, wordless as Changbin’s finger traces from base to head, head to base. Slow. Taunting.

And when Changbin wraps his hand around him, Jisung exhales shakily. The feel of someone holding him down _ there _ makes things all the more exhilarating, but with Changbin of all people? Jisung feels drained of oxygen. “Hyung,” he says weakly.

“Hm?” Changbin hums, feigning obliviousness. He _ knows _ what he’s doing to Jisung, the little brat. Jisung all but wants to tell him that, but he worries his voice will fail him, so. He watches.

The fan squeaks with every turn, blowing warm summer air across the room. Sweat begins to roll down the sides of his head, slipping past the hem of his tee. Changbin tugs at his cock painfully slow, his hand strong, fingers deft. “You good there, Sungie?”

“Yeah,” Jisung gulps. “Yeah, I am.” 

Changbin smiles, burying his head into the crook of Jisung’s neck. He plants a small kiss on his collarbone, another on his Adam’s apple. “Gosh, you’re so cute,” Changbin chuckles, nuzzling against his ear. Jisung feels like keeling over right now.

“Thanks?” Jisung chokes out. The knot in his stomach tightens so hard, it almost makes Jisung combust. “You’re… good-looking, I guess.”

Changbin barks with laughter, but his hand’s still around Jisung, tugging harder. The slick slide makes things easier, dirtier, and Jisung can’t help but feel euphoric, as if he were dangling off of a cliff. His parents are only a flight of stairs away, and the walls are thin, and Jisung is _ anything _ but quiet-

“-Look at yourself,” Changbin whispers. “I’m barely even doing anything, but you’re so close already.” He blinks slowly, eyelashes fluttering beautifully against his skin. “Anyone done this to you before?”

“No.”

Changbin shakes his head. “I guess the world is missing out, huh.” He lays there by his side, hand moving faster. The wet sound of it, coupled with Changbin’s cheap body axe spray, is absolutely intoxicating. Jisung’s head has never spun any faster before.

And when the knot unravels, Jisung gasps loudly, so loud he hears his voice echoing in his ears. His entire body shakes uncontrollably, back arching upwards against Changbin’s palm. When he gradually comes down from his high, he glances at Changbin with widened eyes. 

Changbin smiles. “Like I said, Jisung,” he says, as he begins getting out of the single bed. Jisung tries not to stare at his gunk on Changbin’s palm, but it’s tough. It’s tough, because_ what the hell just happened? _ “You’re really, _ really _ cute.”

☀

It’s only during the third week when Jisung’s mum finally lets them head down south to the beach. Changbin drives them down, windows rolled down and sleeves rolled up. In the passenger seat, Jisung can only gaze on and admire the morning sun beating down upon Changbin, his dark eyes a wispy golden brown, his lips dried cherry red. In the backseat, Ji-hae can’t stop gushing at the sight of the sea tossed upon the summer breeze, whooping every time Changbin speeds over a bump, just for the hell of it.

When they’ve laid down their blankets and belongings, Ji-hae skips onto the sandy shores. “We’re at the beaaaaach!” she screams, delirious with the taste of salty sea on her tongue. The seagulls overhead squawk, as if agreeing with her. The two boys laugh as she gestures wildly for them to come over.

“We’re gonna make the biggest sandcastle together,” Ji-hae instructs. “Jisung-oppa, you build the mound. Changbin-oppa, you dig up the sand.”

“Then what about you?” Changbin chuckles. 

“I’ll fetch some seawater for our moat.” With that said, she traipses off to the edge of the waters, her bucket swinging in her hand.

As Jisung keeps an eye on Ji-hae, Changbin grins. “I’ve actually never been to a beach before.”

Jisung gawks. “What?” he blurts out incredulously. “How? The beach is, like, an essential childhood memory!”

Changbin chortles. “Oops,” he says. Annoyed by how his sleeves keep falling back down to his wrists, Changbin begins unbuttoning the shirt. Jisung instantly avoids all eye contact, and instead burns holes into the sandcastle mound. “Well, appa’s always moving around, so I barely have time to go sightseeing. We moved to Sydney in Australia when I was nine, then Japan when I was twelve. India when I was fifteen, and then back here last year. I’m supposed to go to France next year.”

At this, Jisung glances up. His eyes glaze past the boy’s honey gold skin, the bulging muscles in his arms as Changbin shovels up more sand. “You’re… going to France next year?”

“Mm, depends,” Changbin replies. “I guess that’s a decision to be made later on, but I’ll most probably have to.”

“You’re an adult now, though,” Jisung points out. “You can just… stay here and further your studies.”

Changbin shrugs. “There’s nothing for me here worth staying for,” he answers, before keeping his head down to dig.

_ There’s me, _ Jisung wants to say. Too scared to say aloud.

“I’m heeeeereee,” Ji-hae announces. “C’mon, the tide’s coming in soon! We have to hurry!”

With Ji-hae chirping out orders, the two boys hurriedly follow suit. Jisung’s only mildly surprised to see how enthusiastically he responds to Ji-hae’s weird requests (“I want palm leaves at the top! And can we stick a crab in the moat, Changbin-oppa?”), but then he remembers how Changbin’s an only child, with no siblings. He watches, enraptured by how brotherly Changbin is, until Ji-hae smacks him in the back and asks him to hurry the hell up.

Sadly, the tide rushes in all too fast, and they have to abandon their sandcastle caught up in the sloshing uprush. Despite their creation in ruins, Ji-hae wears the biggest smile she ever has, especially when Changbin suggests to get ice cream and even pays for Ji-hae’s jumbo banana split.

☀

One day, Jisung’s doing a jigsaw puzzle when Ji-hae bounds into the room, Nintendo Switch in hand.

“Oppa,” Ji-hae says. Jisung glances up from the puzzle and looks at Ji-hae. 

“Yeah, Ji-hae?”

“Where’s Changbin-oppa?” Ji-hae pouts.

Jisung scratches the nape of his neck. “Well… he’s out, I guess? I’m not too sure.”

Ji-hae bounces onto the armchair next to Jisung. “I thought you knew where he was.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“I thought you always talk to him, y’know, seeing as you guys are boyfriends.”

Jisung chokes on his breath and hacks loudly. When he’s caught his breath, he stares at Ji-hae, puzzled. “Why would you think that?”

“Welllll.” Ji-hae kicks her feet in the air. “You’re always talking together when I’m playing by the pond. You look at him like he hung the stars or something. Oh, and you left your notebook open one day. Don’t try and deny drawing all those hearts around his name.”

Jisung groans. “Seriously, Ji-hae? Did you have to snoop around?”

“Don’t blame me!” Ji-hae huffs. “You’re lucky I found it first instead of Changbin-oppa.”

With that, she bounds off to the kitchen, leaving Jisung a little irritated, but mostly puzzled. Was he really _ that _ obvious?

☀

Maybe he really is that obvious.

“What’ve you got there?” Changbin asks when he enters the sitting room. Jisung glances up from the puzzle and is immediately hit by the sight of Changbin’s belt. He hurriedly looks back down and continues to find another edge piece. 

“A puzzle,” he mutters.

Changbin snorts. “That’s boring,” he says, plopping down onto the armchair, where Ji-hae had sat earlier, pointing fingers at Jisung’s heart. He fishes out his phone and proceeds to text someone. “Gosh, the line here is awful. No wonder you’re doing a puzzle.”

Jisung chuckles. “It’s not all that bad,” he says.

Slightly intrigued, Changbin shifts around on the armchair and draws it closer to the glass tabletop. “How many pieces is it?”

“A thousand?”

Changbin whistles lowly. “I’m gonna go get us some drinks, then.” Before Jisung can say anything else, the older’s already padding over to the kitchen, and when he returns, he’s got two glasses of lemonade for the both of them. He places one next to Jisung, and takes a swig from his own glass. 

Jisung feels Changbin’s eyes on him as he sorts out the edge pieces, finding one to fit the corner of the puzzle. He suddenly catches sight of Changbin reaching out for one of the pieces. “I think this one goes here,” he murmurs. Jisung watches his delicate fingers slotting the puzzle piece, a perfect fit. When he looks up, he can see the smile on Changbin’s face.

Jisung thinks Changbin looks better with a smile on his lips. Softer, warmer, more inviting. Although he admittedly looks hot with his death stare and scowl, Jisung feels warmth flowing down his veins from how gentle he looks, bundled up in a long sweatshirt and jeans. 

Jisung clears his throat. “Not going out tonight?”

“Nah,” Changbin shakes his head. “Kinda tired of the partying scene. Besides,” his eyes slide across to meet Jisung’s, “you’re not there to dance with.”

“Oh,” Jisung nods jerkily. “Um. Sorry?”

Changbin grins, and squeezes Jisung’s bicep through his tee. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I know you don’t like the party scene, anyways. Sorry about that time I dragged you along.”

“I…” Jisung takes up his glass and stares at the liquid sloshing around the ice. “I actually enjoyed myself that time.”

Changbin grins so hard, his eyes shine under the dim lights of the sitting room. He looks like he’s about to lean in, about to say something, until Ji-hae skips into the room with her plushie dog. “Why’re the both of you still up? This is unfair! How come you guys get to sleep past eleven?”

“Ji-hae,” Changbin chuckles. “We’re adults.”

“But Jisung-oppa still acts like a kid,” she says, sticking out her tongue. “Anyways, I’m gonna sleep in eomma and appa’s bedroom tonight; the bunk bed feels so awful, it’s annoying!” she announces, before hurrying up the stairs, two at a time.

Jisung rolls his eyes. “She’s so loud.”

“Eh,” Changbin shrugs. “She’s pretty sweet.”

“Yeah, because you don’t have a sister; I’d give her to you in a heartbeat,” Jisung jokes. Now it’s Changbin’s turn to roll his eyes, before sipping his lemonade and returning his attention to the puzzle.

They stay there, fixated over the puzzle until Jisung feels his eyelids drooping. “Gosh,” he murmurs, gaping at the wall clock. “Jesus, it’s already two.”

“We can do it tomorrow, then?” Changbin suggests. Jisung nods, and the both of them quietly tiptoe up the stairs, careful not to wake the others. They sneak past the bedrooms and up the stairs to their shared room. They take up their sleep clothes and shuffle into the bathroom.

Changbin takes his shirt off, before staring at himself in the mirror. Jisung gazes at him wordlessly, almost dropping his toothbrush into the sink in the process. Once he’s brushed his teeth and spit out the toothpaste, Changbin still hasn’t moved an inch from where he’s stood.

“Man,” Changbin scoffs. “There’s no gym around here or anything, right?”

Jisung shakes his head. He glances at the mirror, and their eyes meet.

Changbin laughs dryly as he pinches the dollop of skin on his hips. “I’m getting way too fat from all this food, man,” Changbin comments, but there’s a sort of weight to his words. Jisung’s eyes flick down to where Changbin’s inspecting his love handles, the same ones that had made Jisung’s heart leap right out of his chest before. 

It’s as if his brain has shut down. Or maybe it’s been reset to some sort of mode where the only word on his mind now is Changbin, Changbin, Changbin. He doesn’t think as he reaches out a hand and places it on Changbin’s hip. 

Mildly surprised, Changbin fixes his gaze on Jisung’s hand. Jisung holds his breath as he glides his hand upwards, past Changbin’s abdomen, his pectorals, and back down again. All warm, warm skin, speckled with the odd mole. As if his hand were memorising every curve and edge of skin, every inch of that tanned skin he’s grown so fond of. 

Changbin’s eyes lock onto Jisung’s, and before he realises, Changbin reaches out to cup the front of Jisung’s boxers. He doesn’t say anything when he steps closer, and neither does Jisung. They meet somewhere in the middle, eyes closed as their lips press against each other.

Jisung’s almost forgotten this feeling, so many weeks ago, on their first day together. He sighs into the kiss, hands reaching out to curl into fists against Changbin’s chest. Changbin grips his hips, those hefty arms pressed against his own. Jisung swears he hears the other growl, as he slides his tongue along Jisung’s lower lip. He tastes sweet, like the lemonade they’ve just drunk, mingling with the mint from Jisung’s toothpaste.

“Bedroom.” That one word has enough strength to send all blood rushing downwards. Desperate to hold on, Jisung kisses Changbin all the way back to the bedroom, before they settle down onto the single bed. Eventually, he finds himself perched on Changbin’s lap, his legs on either side of him. 

They pull back to stare at each other, just for a moment, before Changbin takes the back of his head and reels him in. And Jisung, the moth, is instantly drawn to Changbin, the flame, and he relishes in the burn of heat searing across his lips, past his body and down to his toes.

Changbin ventures past his mouth. He presses open-mouthed kisses along his cheekbone, his jaw, his neck. Jisung squirms a little, but his breathy gasps only urge Changbin further. 

Changbin pauses momentarily, and peers back up. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Jisung shakes his head.

Changbin smiles softly. “It’s okay. I’ll… lead you.”

They shift around, the blankets swishing underneath them until Changbin’s supporting himself by his elbows over Jisung. Changbin throws him a wicked grin before kissing him again. Jisung thinks he’ll never get tired of this, never get tired of Changbin licking into his mouth, sucking the skin at his clavicle, dancing his fingers against his sides.

Jisung carefully pulls away to lift himself out of his tee. Changbin looks at him, his gaze almost predatory; when the shirt’s off and on the floor, Changbin immediately licks a stripe down his body, from the line down his pectorals, to the trail of hair disappearing into Jisung’s shorts.

He looks at Jisung once, searching for approval in his eyes. When Jisung nods, Changbin slowly pulls down both his shorts and boxers, leaving Jisung wide open for Changbin to see. He feels a little weird, knowing Changbin’s seeing all of him at once, but every doubt flies out of his head the instance Changbin nuzzles against his hair down there.

“Every inch of you is far too cute, Sungie,” Changbin whispers. Jisung feels his soul leaving his body when all of a sudden Changbin takes him in his mouth. Jisung gasps, his eyelashes fluttering shut as Changbin licks the underside of his cock. The glide is soft, far too good in fact, and Jisung curses under his breath when Changbin licks the head teasingly. 

“Hyung,” Jisung mutters. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Changbin giggles, and the vibrations send Jisung thrashing against the mattress. “Yeah, I know how it feels.”

When Changbin pulls off, Jisung begins panicking. Yeah, sure, he’s watched porn before and everything, but… What goes on now? “Uh,” Jisung blinks. “Are you… do I…? Who…”

“You mean who’s fucking who and who’s getting fucked by who,” Changbin laughs. He pinches Jisung’s cheek endearingly. “You really are too cute. I say this so many times, but you just seem to surprise me more and more.”

Jisung flushes under Changbin’s gaze. He feels dazed from how many compliments Changbin’s peppering upon him.

“Anyways,” Changbin swiftly pulls his pants and boxers off, “since it’s your first time, I think it’s best if you put it in instead.” Jisung should be a little turned off by those words, but he can’t help but so much as stare. Changbin’s definitely shorter, but in terms of girth, he’s beautiful. Jisung gulps down, suddenly more nervous than he was a while ago.

When he notices the expression on the younger’s face, Changbin cradles his cheek gently. “We can stop now if it’s too much. Don’t feel bad about it,” he says sternly.

Jisung exhales. “It’s fine,” he says, and it is. It’s just… three weeks ago, he hadn’t imagined himself in this position but now, well.

Changbin smiles, slowly parting his legs. “Alright. But tell me if it gets too much.”

It actually does, but not in a sort of excruciating way that makes Jisung’s insides curdle, no. It’s the kind that has Jisung leaking when he watches Changbin remove his rings and place them on the bedside table, and his hand sliding downwards. He watches, speechless, not at Changbin’s fingers, but more on Changbin’s face. He watches the older fall apart, his eyes squeezing shut, his lips parted into silent gasps, his cheeks reddening with every passing second. Jisung thinks this must be some sort of fever dream.

Eventually, Changbin tosses a condom in his direction. “This doesn’t mean I was looking to fuck someone, by the way,” he admits. “Just… my Changbin-tingle.”

Jisung barks with laughter, and it actually helps him calm down a little as he rolls the condom on. It’s only when he aligns himself that he realises he’s not sure what the hell to do. Changbin, of course, finds it cute and pushes Jisung back gently into a sitting position. Before he can question why, Jisung realises Changbin’s sinking downwards on him, his thighs on either side of him.

Honestly, Jisung feels like he can die in peace now. He’s never felt this before, ever. He groans as Changbin presses down all the way, too much and not enough all the same. Jisung rests his head against the headboard, too blissed out to even open his eyes anymore. He thinks that this is the end of him, until Changbin starts moving, and by gosh is it a thousand times better.

He feels a hand on the back of his head, and struggles to peel his eyes open to look at Changbin. The older’s face is flushed pink, right to the tips of his ears. He brings their faces closer so they can kiss, but the glide is messier, so much messier. Jisung’s saliva pools in the corner of their mouths, but they’re too fucked out to even care anymore. 

Changbin’s making these soft grunting noises that has Jisung aching for more. Every inch of his skin burns alive, alive, alive. He’s never felt so alive than ever before. His hands reach out to grip onto Changbin’s biceps, holding on as Changbin fucks himself on his cock, gradually picking up the pace.

“Hyung,” Jisung whines. “I-”

“-yeah,” Changbin whispers. “Yeah, I get it.”

The words are right there, on the tip of his tongue. But Jisung swallows them down, not wanting to ruin the moment. Instead, his hips snap upwards, much to Changbin’s shock, and it’s only mere seconds before Changbin’s crumbling in his arms. The older lurches forward, his cock sliding against Jisung’s abdomen. It’s too much, not enough. Too much, not enough.

“Sungie, darling,” Changbin sighs. “I’m going to-”

“-yeah,” Jisung mutters. The hurricane in his head pounds so hard against his skull, he can barely process anything anymore. “Yeah. Me too.”

And when they both come, they almost fall off of the single bed, before Changbin steadies a shaky foot on the floor. Jisung thinks he actually sees stars when he comes, his entire body convulsing before finally stirring to a halt. He groans, slumping against Changbin’s sweaty body and sighs deeply.

“I got you,” Changbin murmurs. He drops a kiss on Jisung’s forehead, and for once, Jisung believes in his words. “I got you, Sungie, I got you.”

☀

Changbin’s leaving the following day. Jisung tries not to linger in Changbin’s space, but it’s tough when they’re both solving a puzzle, arm-to-arm, their fingers grazing each other every time they reach out for a biscuit or two. It lasts until Changbin kisses Jisung and almost knocks their mugs of coffee over.

“What’re the both of you doing indoors on your last day, Changbinnie-ah?” Sora asks as she walks into the room. 

Changbin peers up. “Tryna finish this puzzle, eomma,” he replies.

Sora grins and ruffles Changbin’s hair. “Alright. Though, I thought you said you’re hanging out with some friends this evening?”

Jisung shoots Changbin a look. He watches the older nod, plaster a grin, and waits for Sora to walk out of the sitting room. “You’re going out with Jeongyeon and Tzuyu?”

“Nah, there’s some other friends I made on the other side of town,” Changbin says nonchalantly. He places another puzzle piece down. “You’re welcome to tag along.”

Jisung licks his lips. “Well… Okay.”

After an hour, Ji-hae is forced to the sitting room after cooping up in her room with her Nintendo Switch. She eventually decides to help, and they finally finish the puzzle with an hour until their intended hangout. 

Before Jisung walks out of the room, behind Changbin, Ji-hae tugs onto his sleeve. “Oppa.”

Jisung peers down. “Yeah, Ji-hae?”

“It’s Changbin-oppa’s last day tomorrow,” she reminds. “Are you gonna give him anything? I’m gonna give him one of my sand buckets, so he’ll always remember me!”

At this, Jisung recalls their conversation by the beach, hinting at Changbin’s migration to France. “Ah,” he says. His heart sinks down to his shoes, but he fixes on a smile for Ji-hae. “I’ll think of something, okay?”

When he returns to the bedroom, Changbin’s already dressed to head out. “You good there, Sungie?”

“Yeah,” Jisung nods. “Just give me a bit to change.”

Once Changbin’s gone out of the room, he presses his forehead against the wall. Stupid, stupid Jisung, and his stupid, stupid hopes and dreams. What if Changbin thinks he’s not worth staying for? What if he’s just Changbin’s rebound? Jisung tugs on a plain tee, trying so hard to will the thoughts away. To no avail.

It’s a long ride to the river downtown, and so they both take their bikes. Changbin shows off a few tricks on his bike, much to Jisung’s surprise. They ride past rows of shophouses and cottages, and even the pier from their first day. Jisung smiles slightly at the remembrance of that day. 

They park their bicycles by a fence, and Changbin leads Jisung down a grassy meadow. Around them, the dandelions blossom in full bloom, welcoming them with their little petals and rustling leaves. Jisung smiles at the scent of flowers in the air, but his grin slides off once he approaches a rather huge oak tree by the river banks. He notices the few bottles littered around the group of teens, and his frown deepens.

“You made it,” a girl with long purple hair preens. She grins like a Chesire cat at Changbin, wolfish and cunning. Jisung immediately dislikes her. “Thought you wouldn’t have come.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Changbin grins. They sit all around the bottles, exchanging conversation. Jisung tunes out the loud chattering, the faces, and simply focuses on the setting sun shining upon Changbin’s face, illuminating his sharp features, the slope of his sharp nose, and the curve of his lips.

The boy beside him nudges Jisung. “You want a hit?” he asks. 

Jisung politely declines. “Not a… a fan of weed,” he chokes.

There’s a cringy pop song playing from someone’s phone, and the tarts some orange-haired boy brought stick to the roof of Jisung’s mouth. He instantly hates this, hates this meetup, hates knowing that Changbin’s got him wrapped around his finger to have led him out here.

Jisung feels his hands ball into his fists when he notices the purple-haired girl sliding a hand down Changbin’s chest. They’re leaning far too close for Jisung to hear their conversation, but he doesn’t have to guess when the both of them stand and begins to walk off somewhere. And Jisung should’ve known, should’ve known from the start that they’re not exclusive, nor are they together. But he feels anguish rising up his chest, and before he realises what he’s doing, he’s taken off after them.

He hangs back a little, hiding behind the trunk of a nearby tree and peeks around. Jisung has never felt more heartbreak than seeing Changbin placing a hand on the girl’s hip, another on the apple of her cheek. And the look in his eyes - it pains Jisung to know that that look was the same he’d given Jisung himself just a mere few hours ago. 

“Hey, Jisung, right?” Jisung swivels around to see the brown-haired boy peeling off his shirt. “Come and join us!”

“Uh…” he blinks, confused. “Where are y’all going?”

“Swimming across the river to get more cigarettes from the shops!” another girl hollers. She slips out of her tee and immediately dives into the water. “Fuck, it’s so cold!”

There’s a howl of laughter that rips across the group. Jisung walks forward tepidly, his eyes focused on how the others are whooping with joy as they dive into the waters, flicking droplets into each other’s eyes. And for once in his life, he feels drawn to them, drawn to their excitement and thrill, and-

“-Sungie, where’re you going?”

Jisung turns around and sees Changbin. The purple-haired girl’s already jumping into the water, hollering at the top of her lungs. “I thought you were gonna join your girlfriend in the water,” he gripes. It’s petty, he knows, and absolutely unnecessary, but he feels too hurt to think about it.

Changbin shakes his head. “Look, she’s not my girlfriend, okay? And you, don’t go into the water. Not when it’s so cold and deep.”

“You’re not my _ dad _, hyung,” Jisung spits. It’s the first time he’s talked back to Changbin like this, and the stunned look on Changbin’s face says it all. “I can do what I want!”

Before Changbin can argue back, Jisung’s yanking his shirt off and diving into the river. The others erupt into cheers as Jisung resurfaces. Truth be told, the chilly water sends goosebumps prickling his skin, but he ignores them, instead wading further out.

“Sungie, you don’t have to do this,” Changbin pleads. “It’s dangerous; you shouldn’t be out here swimming.”

“I’ll do what I want to do!” Jisung screams. He doesn’t understand why, but he feels tears forming at the backs of his eyes. “You can go suck that girl’s face off or something, I don’t care!” _ I do care. _ “Why’re you standing there? Go away, I don’t want to see your face.” _ Stay, I want to see your face. _

Jisung sobs, and runs his arm over his eyes. Eventually, the weaker side of him battles and wins it out, and he wades shamefully back to the river shores. Despite the protests and jeers from the other kids on the other side of the river, Jisung stumbles right into Changbin’s arms and cries hard into his chest.

“Hey,” Changbin mutters. “Why’re you crying?”

Jisung shrugs. He stays silent as Changbin helps towel him off with his own tee, before slipping his shirt back on. As hopeless as it is, knowing Changbin will be gone after tomorrow, Jisung slips his hand into Changbin’s. Because that’s who he is. An introverted homebody with his heart on his sleeve and too many hopes to be crushed. But for once, Changbin lets him in, dropping a kiss on Jisung’s forehead as they walk across the summer meadows.

☀

Goodbyes hurt the most. That’s what the songs have told him. When Jisung was younger, he hadn’t a single clue what it meant to miss someone so bad. And yet, here he stands on the train platform, clutching onto Changbin’s sleeve as the train pulls into the station.

Ji-hae sniffles a little as she runs to pull Changbin into an embrace. “Will you forget about me, oppa?” Ji-hae pouts.

Changbin chuckles. “Not when I have your bright pink bucket to put on my bedside table, Ji-hae ah,” he says, ruffling Ji-hae’s hair.

Ji-hae nods against his shirt. “Thank you for everything. And, well, for the banana split.”

Changbin laughs heartily, his voice melodious as it drifts past the din of the afternoon crowd. He hugs both Jisung’s parents, before turning to Jisung. Jisung smiles sadly as he stretches his arms out and hugs him tight. 

When they pull back, Jisung places a book in Changbin’s hand. Changbin’s eyes widen when he realises what it is. “But… this is your songwriting book,” he says, bewildered.

“And I want you to have it,” Jisung insists. “There’s… a song on the last page. For you.”

Changbin grins and hugs Jisung tighter. Jisung feels tears prickling his eyes, feels something lodged in his throat, but he swallows it back down, blinks the tears away. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“Me too,” Changbin nods. “You’ve got my number. Call me. Or text. Or something.”

Jisung giggles, and twists his face to an angle whereby no one else can see. He swiftly kisses the corner of Changbin’s mouth, the last kiss he’ll ever give Changbin. 

Before Changbin steps onto the train, Jisung says, “Hope you settle well in France.”

Changbin swivels around. He smiles, radiant and bright. “I don’t think you need to wish me, Sungie. I’ll see ya around.”

It takes exactly ten seconds for Jisung to process that, and by the time he has, the train doors are whirring shut. Jisung blinks, shocked to the very core, as the train slowly begins to pull away from the tracks.

Somewhere behind him, a lady sighs as she flips through the newspaper. “Look at this, Jaeyoung-ssi. Three teens drowned in the river downtown last evening.”

“Oh, what a pity,” the man says. “Thank goodness there weren’t more casualties.”

It’s as if everything clicks together. In an instance, Jisung feels his heart rise to his throat, and soar across the skies. He tears down the tracks, running as fast as he can, wanting to catch Changbin’s eye. He tires out all too fast, and stops where the train platform ends. He coughs, bending down over his knees and breathes heavily. 

Maybe he won’t be able to say those words now, but he will, sometime in the future.

☀

On the train, Changbin flips open the notebook. It’s tattered, the spine almost broken, but he finds it as endearing as he found Jisung the first time he’d laid his eyes on him. He grins, and flips to the last page.

In neat handwriting, the words on the top of the page read Beautiful Stranger. Changbin skims through the page, his fingers drumming against the backcover. He stops short when he catches a certain paragraph that seems all too familiar to him.

_ You got hips like jagger and two left feet _

_ And I wonder if you’d like to meet. _

A tear spills from the corner of Changbin’s eye, but he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead, he clutches the book against his chest and closes his eyes. _I love you, Sungie, I really do._

Maybe he won’t be able to say those words now, but he will, sometime in the future.


End file.
